


Lance is Cold and has a Concussion

by kkismygod



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura - Freeform, ConcussedLance, Cuddling, Fluff, Keith/Lance - Freeform, M/M, Pidge - Freeform, PiningKeith, PiningLance, Sick!Lance, Sickfic, TopKeith, Voltron, Whump, blackpaladin, bluepaladin, bottomlance, caretaker!keith, cold!lance, coldlance, concussion, hunk - Freeform, keithisagoodboyfriend, klance, klancecuddles, lancehasaconcussion, lanceiscold, redpaladin, soft!keith, soft!lance, vld, vldsickfic, vldwhump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-20 23:11:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21289733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kkismygod/pseuds/kkismygod
Summary: Lance gets a concussion and finds pills that take his pain away, but gives him another— freezing— kind of pain. Cue Keith, who’s particularly gifted at warming him up ;)
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 365





	Lance is Cold and has a Concussion

**Author's Note:**

> Good morning, welcome to my second work. I wrote this in like an hour, hope it quenched all your Voltron fantasies. I’m still not over this show, or these characters. RIP me.
> 
> Comments are appreciated :) xoxo

Lance had always enjoyed diplomatic missions. There was never any chance that the team would be put in danger, lest someone (mainly himself) accidentally offended a higher up— (he just can’t keep all these alien customs straight). 

Nonetheless, there were no Galra present at any planets they planned to join alliances with in person, otherwise they wouldn’t go for fear of putting Voltron in danger of being captured. They were usually treated as guests on these planets, welcomed with open arms, treated to banquets of oddly scrumptious foods, and while Keith and Allura— being leader of Voltron and princess of Altea respectively— handled the real diplomacies, making alliances and such, Lance, Pidge, and Hunk got to show off in the lions and in their cool paladin armor, pose for pictures with the citizens, and try out all of the foods. It was more of a break than a mission, to Lance at least. And he was making great use of his break on the planet Judeah, keeping King Judis’s son’s and daughter busy with a good ol’ game of four square, while Keith and Allura discussed terms with the King at his throne. 

Lance had initially come with Keith and Allura to listen in, take note of how things were done in case he ever had to step in for a diplomatic mission for some reason. “You’re my right hand,” Keith had said, clasping him on the shoulder in that proud-leader way. “You need to know how to do this.”

And so, just this once, Lance had begrudgingly agreed to tag along with Keith and Allura rather than adventure around the planet with Pidge and Hunk. The little princes and princess, halfway through the meeting, began fussing out of boredom. He understood how they felt. So he, being the amazing big brother he was, suggest he keep them busy with a game. And these Judeahn aliens, with their 6 tentacle-like arms and seemingly endless amounts of energy, went hard. It was just four-square, Lance had told them, nothing to get too worked up about. But the three kids were playing like their lives depended on it— slamming the ball on the ground, diving to catch it, firing it at each other. That’s how Lance was caught off guard, his reflexes being not nearly as heightened as the Judeahn’s, and he missed a ball being launched at his head. It knocked him square in the forehead with a loud smack, and the kids covered their faces and giggled.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Lance rubbed his forehead and winced. “You guys keep playing. I’m gonna sit this next game out.”

The kids whined in unison, but Lance tossed the oldest daughter the ball and walked to where Keith and Allura were shaking King Judas’s hand, bidding goodbye. He tripped on his shoes, but thankfully no one was watching. 

He blinked hard, vision swimming as he made it to the pair. The King said thank you to Lance, and he smiled in return. Then they were escorted out of the hall and into the palace. 

“Your rooms are on the second floor, if you’ll just follow me…” a Judeahn guard said, and crawled on its tentacles up the stairs. Lance focused heavily on each step, begging them to stop moving. He may have tripped on one. Or a couple.

“Are you okay?” Keith asked beside him. His eyebrow was raised in concern, eyes narrowed with suspicion. Lance raised his leg for the last stair, but it caught on the edge and he would have went sprawling face first on the marble floor if Keith hadn’t caught his elbow in time. “Seriously, what’s wrong with you?”

“I got hit in the head, is all,” Lance told him, giving him a quick grateful smile. “Just a little dizzy.”

“You let those kids hit you with the ball?” Keith teased. “I would have thought a paladin of Voltron could defend himself against a couple of children, at least.”

“Yeah, yeah. Shut it, mullet brain. My area of expertise is long-distance artillery for a reason.”

They traveled through the hallways of the palace, the only sound the tapping of their shoes on the marble. When they got to their rooms, the guard stopped and gave them each a set of keys. 

“I hope everything is to your liking. Please, if you have any issues, come get me or the King. We’ll be happy to help.” Then he went crawling away on those unnerving white tentacles. 

Everyone got their own rooms, Lance was happy to find. He tried shoving his key— red — into the lock on the door— also red. Allura was doing the same with her blue key, and Keith with his black. They each got their doors open, but Lance was still struggling. He could get the key in, but no matter which way he turned it, the lock wouldn’t move and the door wouldn’t open. He pulled it out, shoved it back in, twisted, pulled it back out, dropped it on the floor—

“Here, let me get that for you,” Keith said and bent down to get the key before Lance could argue. He pushed it into the slot and turned, and the door clicked open for lance.

“Thanks,” Lance grumbled, taking his key back from Keith. He turned to walk into his room when he caught him by the shoulder.

“Not so fast,” he said. “You don’t look so good. How hard did you get hit?” 

“Not that hard, I’m fine,” Lance said. He blinked hard and tilted his head, trying to get Keith’s head to stay in one place. Even with his warped vision, he could see the unconvinced look Keith was giving him. He crossed his arms, and Lance knew what was coming. “Okay, fine. My head hurts and I’m a little dizzy and a little nauseous. I’m just gonna nap it off.”

“It sounds like you might have a—“

“It’s not a concussion,” Lance interrupted. “I would know. Now if you’ll excuse me, that bed is calling my name.”

And, boy, was it. King sized, cloud-like mattress, feather like pillows, all topped with a blanket as soft as kittens fur. And the view. Lance could look out at the sparkling water under the purple sky as it slowly got darker, until everything faded into black and nothing could be seen. 

He didn’t come out for dinner, having no appetite, and he buried himself under his blankets to keep out any kind of light that could disturb his head. It ached for hours, keeping him awake, a strong piercing hammer in his temporal region. He’d had a concussion before, when he was hit in the head with Marco’s baseball bat in 7th grade, and to be honest, this felt a lot like it. He had trouble recalling the day’s occurrences, and found himself wondering when Pidge and Hunk said they’d meet up with them for dinner. They’d told him, right? Why couldn’t he remember? 

He guessed it didn’t matter now, because it was very obviously late and everyone was in bed. He heard the doors all around him open and close as his teammates got settled in for the night. He tossed and turned for a couple hours, rubbed his head, trying to get rid of the incessant headache. Finally, he had enough. He got out of bed and hobbled toward the bathroom, opening the drawers under the sink and above the mirror, rummaging around for something that resembled a pain killer. He found a box with a Judeahn on it, his head was colored in red with exclamation marks all around it. Lance squinted his eyes at the writing, but he couldn’t read the symbols. 

Oh well, he decided with very little consideration. His head hurt something awful, his stomach was paying the price for it, and he just wanted to sleep. Ripping open the top of the box, he popped a couple of the navy blue pills into his palm and threw them into his mouth. He cupped his hand under a stream of water from the sink and slurped it up, downing the pills in one swallow. Then, he went back to his bed and closed his eyes.

He didn’t know how long it was before he began to shiver.

It didn’t get colder in here, did it? Lance wondered, not remembering when the temperature dropped. The heater was blasting at full potential, and he was covered in the thick blanket, so surely he shouldn’t be so cold. But his hands and feet felt like ice, his blood seemed to solidify, and he trembled beneath the blanket. 

Something in those damned pills, he concluded. Yes, they made his headache fade away, but it only left him feeling like he had been locked out of the house during a blizzard wearing nothing but his boxers. He sat up and blew into his hands, trying to warm them up. His breath came out in a cloud of condensation. 

What the fuck?

Teeth chattering, he grabbed his blanket and threw it over his head, curled into a ball, and tried to conserve as much body heat as he could. It only helped a little. He whined pathetically, sitting up again. He couldn’t sleep like this. And he was just so, so tired. 

You could go to Keith, a little voice suggested in the back of his head. He quickly quieted the idea. He could, but that would also be admitting to weakness. And he would not let Keith— good, strong, mullet brained Keith— hold this over his head like he knew he would. Plus, the two had been getting a lot closer recently. Lance knew it wasn’t just a one sided thing, the little (not so little) crush on his rival. And while they haven’t discussed it much, or acted on it much, all it would take was one little push and maybe they could be…

What?

Together?

The thought sounded nice to Lance. But it was more complicated than that, for reasons Lance’s brain couldn’t handle thinking about right now.

Lance didn’t want to ask Keith for help. What was he supposed to do? Laugh at him? Get him some more blankets? Lance could do that himself. Then again, he was fucking miserable, shivering away in bed all alone in the dark. 

He stood up, wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, and felt around in the dark for the closet door he knew he saw on the way in. When he opened it, he was disappointed to find that it was empty except for a vacuum cleaner and a potted plant. A particularly violent shiver wracked through his body, causing him to drop his blanket and expose his skin to the unwelcome cold.

Screw this, Lance finally decided, grabbing his blanket from the floor. He hurried to his door, broke out into the hallway, and then knocked on Keith’s door across the hall. His breath left his lips in visible wisps of air, and he clutched his blanket tighter around him. He stood before the door, shaking like a leaf in the wind, but nobody came to the door. Keith was a light sleeper, it would only take another knock, but Lance was too damn cold to wait around. 

He tested the door knob, and to his surprise, it twisted until the door cracked open. He pushed it all the way through and quietly shut it, teeth chattering all the way over to Keith’s bed.

“Keith,” he hissed, hugging the blanket around him tighter. “Keeeeiith.”

Keith was lying on his back, one arm under his pillow and the other lying across his stomach. His brows were drawn down like they always do when he sleeps, the same look he gets when he’s focused on flying. ”Easy as sleeping,” he always says when he does something particularly impossible with the Black Lion, just to show off and rub it in Lance’s face.

Lance’s heart jumped. He forgot how pretty he was. 

“Keith, please,” he gently placed a shaking hand on his shoulder. This finally got him to wake up. His eyes shot open and he lifted his head off the pillow, hand sliding from beneath the same pillow with a flash of silver and purple. When he saw that it was just Lance, he breathed a sigh of relief and shoved the knife back under the pillow.

“Were you just gonna stab me?”

“Lance,” he let his head fall back against the pillow, running a hand through his hair. “You ‘kay?” 

Lance tried to ignore the way his sleepy raspy voice made his heart happy. 

“Cold,” is all Lance said, rubbing his arms for effect. Keith looked confused, but scoot to the other half of the bed so Lance had room to get in. He even held the blanket back and everything. Lance wasted no time in climbing in, allowing Keith to throw the blanket back over him. 

“Better?”

“No.”

“May I asked why you’re so…” Keith trailed off, clearly lost. Lance shuttered. “Cold?”

“I took some pills for my head but they made me really cold,” Lance explained, his trembling making the whole bed shake. “I can’t get warm. T-thought you could help.”

“I—“ Keith began, then stopped himself with a sigh. “Okay, I guess. I’ll go look for more blankets. But next time, please ask someone before you take any mysterious alien pills.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” Lance responded. He heard Keith leave the room, and then come back a moment later. A weight was added to him— more blankets, he realized— and he poked his head out to see Keith layer them on top of Lance.

“Better now?” He asked, tucking the last one in around him. 

“A little,” Lance said, burrowing deeper into his blanket cocoon. With the mind-numbing chill gone from his consciousness, he was suddenly aware of the massive fool he had made of himself. “Hey… sorry for barging in like that. My heads all… and I was just so cold… Thanks for helping me. You can get in, if you want. There’s enough room for both of us.”

Keith slid into the bed next to Lance, who gave up some of his blankets to share with Keith. Lance was nothing short of freaking out on the inside— this beautiful slice of half-human half-alien was next to him, sharing a bed with him, a hair's length away from him. If he just shifted a little bit, he could—

“How’s your head doing?” Keith moved onto his side, looking at Lance with his head supported in his hand. It made his bangs sway to the right, covering half of his face in darkness and letting the moon shine off of the other half. His eyes glinted like violet, scar crawling across his pale skin in the way Lance loved so much. 

“Headaches gone. For now. Still feel like I lost a few too many important brain cells.”

“Not like you had a lot to work with in the first place.”

“Hilarious,” Lance fought back another shiver, but lost. He curled deeper into a ball, huffing. 

“Still cold?” Keith asked, concern lacing his brows. Lance cursed his stupidly sexy sleep voice. The soft tone, gentle rasp— gah. Not now. 

“Just a little, but I think I’ll be o- OH,” his sentence was cut off abruptly when Keith proceeded to pull Lance close to his chest, keeping him there with his arm secured around Lance’s back. 

Oh, fuck me.

“Just try to shut up now so we can both get some sleep,” Keith said, in that nonchalant way he always does. Lance was aware of him closing his eyes and lying back, breathing deeply. He, on the other hand, was wide awake, eyes shot wide open in the dark. His heart hammered against his ribs, fist clutching over the blanket that separated him from Keith’s chest. 

Move it, he begged himself. Just move it.

He did. He moved the damn blanket, he did. He tried to do it in the same nonchalant way Keith was acting about this, but failed miserably if Keith’s quiet laughter was any indication. Lance looked up at him as he rested his cheek against his clothed chest. He was smiling, amused. Lance pretended not to notice. He was suddenly aware of just how warm Keith was, the heat from his body curing him of his icy misery. The warmth was like heaven, thawing his blood and calming his insufferable shivering. He found himself burrowing deeper into his chest, basking in Keith’s scent, unashamed.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” his voice was muffled from his cheek being squished against Keith’s chest.

“It doesn’t?” Keith asked, still amused. He rubbed his hand on Lance’s back, fingers trailing up his spine. It tickled, even through a layer of clothing, and shot tingles through his entire body. His palm flattened between his shoulder blades, and he kept it there. Lance’s cheeks flooded with heat.

Well, I was right about one thing, Lance thought to himself, accepting the fact that he was going to get no sleep tonight. Keith definitely helped.


End file.
